Come Back to Me
by cosmogirl7481
Summary: My version of Veronica and Logan's last night together before he leaves for duty. Just a little smut and fluff because...well, basically, I needed more. I tried to be as canon as I possibly could with LoVe.


**For all the marshmallows.**

**So, I own nothing here. Well, just some of the words, but not even all of them. All characters belong to Rob Thomas. I'm just sort of in love with them. Seriously.**

Logan sat at the table, pretending to read something on his laptop, but his eyes never left the swell of Veronica's ass as she leaned over the rail on his deck, talking to someone on the phone. Her hips were fuller than they were nine years ago, and even though he couldn't see them from his position, so were her breasts. She'd changed over the years, more woman than girl now. All woman, actually. Everything about her had always been sharp. From the angles of her body to the bite of her tongue. But now, she was different.

Softer.

His.

He wondered briefly who she was talking to. Maybe it was Mac or Wallace, or probably her dad. He only knew he didn't really care. What he did care about: she was here. She'd come back to Neptune – to the place she hated more than anything – because he needed her help. Because he needed _her_.

He knew the moment he picked up the phone to call her that she'd be there for him. She'd always been there for him when he really needed her. Nine years didn't mean a fucking thing. And he'd known it the moment he heard her voice on the phone.

"You know," she began, pulling him from his thoughts. He looked up to find her smirking. "We have this amazing new technology called a camera. I'm pretty sure you even have one on that fancy smart phone in your pocket. They're not just good for taking selfies. Or pictures of your dick if you're…well, probably Dick. You can also take covert pictures of your girlfriend's ass instead of blatantly staring until she feels self-conscious."

"You like it when I look at your ass," he teased.

"Obviously," she deadpanned, walking in from the deck. "I mean, what woman doesn't love feeling ogled and objectified?"

"None of the women I know."

He pulled her down into his lap, looking at her, waiting for her smile. But instead, her eyes softened as she said, "Unfortunately, with your track record, I think that's probably true."

"Correct me if I'm wrong," he told her, leaning in to kiss her neck. And fuck, she smelled so good – like ocean and air and everything he'd been missing for almost a decade. "But aren't you a part of my track record?"

She tried to pull back, so he bit down on the curve between her shoulder and neck just hard enough to make her whimper. But she was more determined than he gave her credit for, and when she finally pushed him away, she looked in his eyes and said, "I am the exception to your very predictable rule."

She had no fucking idea.

"Are you calling me predictable?"

She shrugged, grinning.

How long had he wanted this?

Wanted her?

How many times over the course of his life since she'd left had he imagined this very thing?

Veronica – there in his arms – laughing and smiling and really happy.

Too many times. So many times, that even after two weeks of having her there in his life every day and his bed every night, he was still scared of waking up to find her gone before he realized nothing had changed. But by some fucking miracle, every morning he found her…exactly where she was supposed to be.

"Yeah," he said, kissing her quick, soft. "You've always been my exception."

She relaxed in his arms again, her head on his shoulder, her breath soft and steady on his neck. They didn't say anything more for a long while, and even though the quiet had never been something they were ever good at together, there was nothing uncomfortable about this moment. Nothing except what Logan knew was weighing on both their minds.

"So, tomorrow…" she started.

"One night," he spoke gently into her hair. "We still have one more night before we have to think about tomorrow."

"I know," she said with a sigh. He could hear the resignation in her voice, but then he felt the press of her lips against his skin, and when she spoke again, he could hear the longing. "So what did you have in mind for our last night?"

"House party?" he teased.

"Yeah," she said dryly. "Because the image of Dick drunk and high is what I want to remember for the next six months."

"Well, then I guess it's a good thing I told Dick to stay away tonight then, isn't it?"

"Well, then," she said, shifting in his lap until she was facing him completely. He could feel her pussy pressing against his cock, which was already hard. Hell, it had been hard since he was staring at her ass earlier. He slid his hands down to grab her and pull her even closer. "I guess I should make tonight worth your while. You know? Give you something to remember for the six lonely months away. Any suggestions?"

"I get to be the big spoon," he said, squeezing her ass.

"Spooning, Logan? Really?" she said dryly. "I seem to remember a cocky jackass telling me once that if the cuddling was the best part, he wasn't doing it right."

"Well, the cocky jackass had a point," he said, sliding his hand under her shirt and up her back. Her skin was warm, but nothing like the heat of her breast when he reached around to cup it. Her nipple was already hard, as he swiped his thumb over the peak. "But the jackass wasn't just cocky."

"No?"

"He was also angry," he said, pinching her. Her whimper made it hard to keep up the teasing banter. "Jealous."

"I don't know," she said. Her voice was teasing, breathless. "He didn't seem jealous."

"Veronica, trust me," he said, looking in her eyes. And fuck, the way she was looking back at him made him lose the act completely. "I would have rather been in that hotel room with you, even if all I could do was hold your hand, than in another room with anyone else."

"I don't think that's my hand you're holding right now."

The words were barely out of her mouth before his mouth covered hers. The last two weeks had been perfect – there was an ease to the way they'd fallen back to each other. But as Logan kissed her this time, there was an urgency he hadn't really felt until right now. This moment. He knew she felt it, too. It was the way she kissed him back, the way she opened her mouth, tasting him, taking from him like it was their last time. It wasn't, but he knew that's what she felt like. He couldn't take away that feeling, but he could make this good. He could give her something to hold on to and remember while he was away. And he could go away, knowing that she'd be here waiting for him when he got back.

It was everything he'd ever wanted.

She was everything he'd ever wanted.

He bit down on her bottom lip too hard, but that didn't stop him. He breathed in her whimper before sucking it in his mouth. She wrapped her legs around him, her hands gripping the front of his shirt. Oh, she was as needy as he was, and he was determined to give her everything. Determined that even after tonight, she'd still feel him inside her for days.

He picked her up, holding her to him exactly the way she'd been sitting in his lap. His mouth never left hers, and though he'd always teased her about her size, he loved that he could carry her this way. Loved how strong she made him feel, even though she was the strongest person he'd ever known.

When he mad ite to his bed, he laid down on top of her. And fuck, she just opened up her body to welcome him. Her legs wrapped around his waist, her feet pressing against the back of his thighs, her hands cupping his face…taking from, and giving him everything at the same time.

"I…I don't think I can be gentle," he told her, his breath coming out hot and hard against her lips. "Not this time."

"Don't," she said, kissing him again. "I don't want gentle. Not tonight…not right now."

"God, Veronica." Her fingers scratched hard up his back, under his shirt. He loved the bite, the sting of her nails against his skin. He hoped there would be marks, hoped that she was leaving a piece of her with him the same way he wanted to with her.

He pushed up and back, looking down at her, before taking off his shirt and discarding it on the floor beside the bed. It didn't take him long to remove the rest, and he couldn't stop watching as she did the same. She made him feel like a fucking teenager again, even though everything about her spoke to being a woman. Her face was all flushed, and the sun setting through the open windows behind them cast a perfect glow across every curve, every surface of her naked body.

"You don't even know," he said, his hands running up her splayed legs, across her stomach, until they were cupping her breasts, "how fucking beautiful you are."

She wasn't comfortable with compliments – she never had been. "Stop with the sweet words. I'm already naked. In your bed. I'm pretty sure that makes me a sure thing."

He couldn't help the laugh that escaped. "I don't think you've ever been a sure thing."

He leaned down, taking one nipple in his mouth, sucking wet and hard before moving to the other one. He felt her fingers in his hair, gripping tightly. "I don't know, all of this feels…inevitable."

He wanted to say it – the words were on the tip of his tongue. He loved her, he always had, but they hadn't said the words since she'd been back. Maybe it was too soon. Maybe they needed to take it slow this time. And the thought of that made him pause, made him happy his tongue was already occupied. He sucked her hard again, pulling as much of the flesh of her breast as he could into his mouth, pulling back, only to see the wet, red mark he'd left there. If she noticed, she didn't seem to care, so he did the same thing again to her other one.

She cried out this time, her feet pressing firmly beside him into the bed. "Logan, please…"

"What?" he asked.

"Don't tease me," she whimpered. "Don't make me wait."

He slid his hand down her belly, hovering just above her pussy. She was open for him, and so fucking wet, he could feel it before his finger slipped just inside her.

"Is this where you want me?" he asked, pushing one, then two fingers inside. She could only nod in agreement, her breath coming in short, small gasps. "Just…right…here."

He fucked her with his fingers – hard, slow, deep. He loved the way she felt around him, tight and slick. Loved the look on her face, the lack of words she had as he opened her up. "See?" he whispered, leaning in to kiss her belly before looking up into her eyes. "The cocky jackass had a point." His fingers thrust in again, harder and deeper than before. "This part…it's so much better than the cuddling."

And before she could say anything, he brought his mouth down, his tongue finding her clit, then he licked and sucked until he felt her come around his fingers. And amazing as that was, it didn't compare to the feeling he had when, as she came, she called out his name.

Overcome with the emotions he was feeling, he covered her body with his. He took her face in his hands, and without another word – without any further invitation – he thrust himself inside her completely. And she took him – all of him.

He couldn't stop. Not this time, not when he needed her so much just like this. Not when everything they'd gone through to get here seemed to fall away at the feeling of being like this. He knew. He'd always known, somewhere deep inside, that they'd end up this way.

She was finally his. In the way he'd always wanted. And he was hers...always.

.

.

.

Logan didn't sleep that night. He never once closed his eyes. He watched her as she slept in his arms. He listened to her breathing and smiled when, in her sleep, she whispered his name. He could live without one night's rest. What he couldn't live without was the memory of this, of her, for the next six months.

He stayed in bed with her as long as time allowed him, pulling her against him just long enough to kiss the back of her neck one more time. Then quietly, he left her in the bed while he got ready. She was still sleeping when he came out of the bathroom. She looked so perfectly rumpled and mussed in nothing but his shirt – perfect, and the polar opposite of him in his crisp dress whites. And he pulled out his phone to take a picture, because if he couldn't be with her, if he couldn't see her like this every morning, he'd sure as fuck have a picture to remind him of what was here waiting for him when he returned. After all, she'd told him to take a picture.

She woke just as he snapped it.

"No, it's too early," she said in her sleep filled voice, looking more beautiful than she had any right to.

He smiled. "Well, you'd be surprised how strongly the armed services feels about punctuality. You want me to get busted for going AWOL?"

She pushed up on the bed, her eyes slightly squinting from the rising sun shining in.

"What I want is for you to stand there," she said, getting up on her knees before him, "in that effity white uniform, with your Harvard mouth, and show me some effing courtesy."

He couldn't hide his smile.

He didn't even want to.

"Well, I appreciate you keeping it PG-13 for me," he murmured. "I'm delicate."

He kissed her softly on the nose.

She pulled back, smiling. Her eyes sparkled in the low light of the sun. "I got you off murder charges," she said, looking at him knowingly. "I can beat an AWOL rap."

And he had no doubt that she could, but he told her the only thing he could. And it was the truth. "Listen. It's a hundred and eighty days, Veronica." He looked at her with all the love he was feeling inside, but still too afraid to say the words. "What's a hundred and eighty days to us?"

Her eyes grew soft, sad. And that wasn't what he wanted. "Our story is epic," he continued, calling back the words he'd spoken to her what seemed like a lifetime ago. But they'd been true then. And they were still so fucking true now. "Spanning years, continents."

"Lives ruined, bloodshed."

"Yeah," he smiled.

Her eyes filled with tears, and he knew she was struggling with this. They hadn't had enough time, but that didn't mean they didn't have forever. So, he leaned in to kiss her. Soft, long. Taking as much as time allowed him in that moment.

It wasn't enough.

But it was never going to be enough with her. Not ever.

"Come back to me," she whispered. And those words coming from her meant more than anything Logan could remember. More than the fact that she'd saved him. It was why she saved him. She did it because she wanted him in her life…her heart. And she would still be here when he got back. Not because she had to be, but because she'd chosen it. Chosen him.

"Always."

He touched her face one last time, before dropping his hands to hers. He allowed their fingers to tangle just for a second, just long enough to make the ache in his heart intensify. And then he walked away, grabbing his bag. When he got to the door, he couldn't stop himself from looking back. And the image of her looking at him, wearing his shirt, kneeling on his bed with tears in her eyes was almost too much.

But then she smiled through her tears.

And it was that one smile that gave him the strength he needed to walk away, knowing that this was exactly how he wanted to remember her while he was gone.

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**Reviews are love.**

**Please leave me some.**

**Thank you to Marvar for editing like the beta-goddess she is, even though she's never watched Veronica Mars. And thanks to Jaimearkin for pre-reading and flailing for me. Since she's the one who got me hooked, she kinda had to.**


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